


Plush Claws

by NanakiBH



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Established Relationship, Gender Identity, Gentle Kissing, M/M, Stolen Moments, Teenage Drama, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 10:49:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11667603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NanakiBH/pseuds/NanakiBH
Summary: Crossroads' new hire looks kind of familiar...





	Plush Claws

**Author's Note:**

> *leans real close to Atlus and whispers* Let Akira wear a dress...

“Been a while.”

“Yeah, and whose fault is that?” Morgana asked. Akira didn't even have to look over his shoulder to know that Morgana was wearing that smug, toothy grin of his. He could hear it in his voice.

Shinjuku looked no different from the way it was when he'd been there last. Its hectic familiarity was comfortable in that way. At the back of his mind, he always wondered if its differentness was what kept him coming back.

The air smelled like rain, but that wasn't enough to stop the people who were excitedly trying to usher customers into their businesses. Shinjuku always kept going, never stopping. It was alive during the day and alive during the night with activity only falling infinitesimally like breaths between words. As someone outside of the adult world, it all looked like an act to Akira's eyes; a performance practiced by years of repetition in society's closed circuit of work and work. What they saw as an outlet, Akira saw as a depressive part of the cycle.

A host on the corner was sweet-talking some women. A pair of salary men were taking a seat at the bar nearby. The girl who was trying to make it as an idol was arguing with her manager again.

Looking at them, it was easy to think _“I won't become like them.”_ The pain they suffered was the worst kind; insidiously commonplace. Watching them was cathartic, but it also placed a very real feeling of unease within Akira's chest.

He wasn't like them.

But he could be.

Shinjuku was a separate world accessed easier than the Metaverse. Upon graduation, every student would cross the threshold into that world, and it was up to them whether or not they would become like all of its other inhabitants.

That was probably why Shinjuku fascinated him so much. Beneath its lights and promises of a good time, there was a joyless dreariness he'd never known. By simply noticing its existence, Akira got the chilling sensation that he'd avoided what would have otherwise been an inevitable disaster – a disaster that was going to stay there, watching over his shoulder, waiting for him to make a decision.

That deep-down kind of suffering was what caused adults' desires to become so distorted. It was what birthed the Palace rulers. Shinjuku was full of it and it was held at bay by the host clubs and bars and adult stores. A depressive part of the cycle it may have been, but it was necessary. Unless society changed, the pain born from monotony and unfulfillment would remain as well.

It wasn't all bad, though.

On his way between high school and adulthood, he stood before an aptly-named establishment.

He hadn't gone without realizing the irony of his endeavors. One day, very soon, the leader of the Phantom Thieves who hated rotten adults was going to become an adult, too. What prevented him from prematurely despairing adulthood's inevitability were those adults whom he called his confidants.

He visited Crossroads for Ohya-san, but Lala was someone he could trust, too. She was different from other adults, and different from the other confidants. Sometimes, listening to her made him realize just how little he knew about everything.

She saw the world differently. That was probably how she was able to keep running that modest little bar in the middle of that glimmering, bleak atmosphere. Crossroads was the only place that smiled honestly.

Ohya-san, who relentlessly pursued the truth, treated that place as her one true respite, and Lala wore her true self right there on her sleeve.

“Hey. Are you going in or not?” Morgana asked, tapping him on the shoulder with a paw.

Akira laughed and reached back to give his pawpad a squish. “Yeah, I am. Just thinking about how special this place is.”

Morgana quickly retracted his paw from his grasp. “Ugh, knock it off. If you love this place so much, then how come you come here so infrequently?”

Because there were other places to be. And because... He was kind of afraid of it, too.

Graduation was right around the corner, but it also felt far away. Akira wanted to confront it already, to hit the transition as painlessly as possible. In the meantime, there were many thoughts that wanted to interrupt him with uncertainty.

He didn't know if he could become an adult as strong as Lala who could live freely and truthfully.

He'd already spent a lot of time learning how to conceal and deceive so that he could evenly fight against the corrupted adults, but, in learning those techniques, he wondered if he was simply taking steps towards becoming like them.

He didn't want that...

He wanted to be more like himself.

Lala was able to read him like a book. Even before they really knew each other, she looked at him like she understood what kind of person he was – a kid. Just a kid. A kid who didn't really understand himself or anything.

Even around his friends, he was wearing a mask. The Leader mask.

That was who he wanted to be, but it was going to remain a mask unless he learned how to become it. Although he wanted to learn more about himself, he was afraid of what he might discover. It was the same type of fear he felt every time he stood behind the bars and was confronted by the twin wardens who were overseeing his rehabilitation.

 

A drop of rain touched his cheek.

 

“I'm surprised Yusuke didn't call me,” Akira said, smiling to himself as he wiped the drop away with his thumb. “Whenever it rains now, I can't help thinking that he has something to do with it.”

Rainy nights used to be a melancholy thing. Then there was Yusuke, and they became something that Akira embraced and thought fondly of. The humidity and even the smell of damp concrete – Akira loved it all because of him.

As he stepped toward the door, an older man who was muttering to himself pushed past him and went inside. He probably assumed that someone of Akira's age wasn't going in, but it was still rude to push people. Akira heard Morgana quietly hiss at him once he couldn't hear them.

It was busier inside than Akira expected. The bar was packed and there were people taking up the booths as well. The man who shoved him had to search for a place to sit. Akira assumed that things were always quiet at Crossroads, so he suddenly felt bad for leaving Lala on her own. It must have been difficult for her to serve the guests and entertain at the same time.

Ohya-san was there. She'd been waiting for him, by the look of it. As soon as she heard the chimes on the door, she turned her head to see who entered and her face lit up with a mischievous smirk when she saw him. She raised the hand holding her glass in greeting.

Akira pushed Morgana back into his bag to keep him from being noticed and went over.

Ohya spun around on her stool to face him and crossed one leg over the other. “Hey there, kiddo.”

He narrowed his eyes, but didn't comment on her nickname. “Yeah, hey.”

“Got some new info for me? Lay it on me. I'm all ears.”

“Actually...” He awkwardly readjusted his heavy bag on his shoulder and looked in Lala's direction. He wanted to ask if she needed his help, but she was too distracted for him to get her attention. She probably expected him to put his apron on without having to be told.

“Here to work, huh?” With a dramatic sigh, Ohya turned her stool back toward the bar and rested an elbow on the counter. “Eh, that's fine. Lala could use the help, anyway. This place has gotten a lot livelier ever since that new girl started working here.”

“New girl?”

Come to think of it...

When he walked in, he had noticed someone unfamiliar, but he dropped the thought almost as quickly as it entered his mind. Since Crossroads typically didn't see a lot of traffic, he hadn't expected Lala to hire anyone else. It was probably pretty presumptuous of him to assume that she wouldn't try to spice up the business somehow.

At the back, there was a tall, slender girl in a kimono like Lala's entertaining a couple in a booth. The men around them were waving at her, trying to get her attention. Akira was only able to see her from behind, but he had a feeling she'd be attractive, the image of the “Japanese beauty”.

...But he knew what kind of place Crossroads was.

In reality, that perfect beauty was probably...

No. It would be irresponsible of him to think of her as anything less than a woman.

In a way, she was probably a lot like Lala. Anyone who was able to confidently express themselves that openly had to be someone worth knowing. He looked forward to meeting her.

“Pretty, isn't she?” Ohya said, a grin in her voice as she elbowed him suggestively.

She was, but she was no Yusuke.

“Not my type,” he answered noncommittally. He could feel Ohya's stare as he made his way around behind the counter, though...

Setting her nearly empty glass on the counter, she watched him with a smirk and raised eyebrow as he set down his bag and put on his apron. “So,” she said, waiting a few seconds between words just to make him squirm. “What _is_ your type?”

“I'm just a minor, you know. Are you sure you should be asking me such an inappropriate question? Someone might take it the wrong way. Things could get out of hand.”

She lifted her drink and took a slow sip, keeping her eyes locked unnervingly on his. “That was a weird way of threatening me. Didn't work. Still gonna ask you weird stuff. Besides, what're you implying? You know I'm taken.” She started chuckling at her own joke before she even delivered the punchline. “I'm... married to my work.”

A joke of that level didn't deserve a laugh, but Akira found himself laughing. She was pretty endearing sometimes.

Akira left his bag unzipped for Morgana and stepped up to the counter with his apron on, ready to entertain. There was a middle-aged woman in a suit sitting at the end of the bar who looked like she could use some company, but when he began to head toward her, Lala stepped in front of him, finally freed from the customer she'd been speaking with.

“Akira-chan~!”

“Y-Yes...!”

Lala grabbed him by the shoulders and let out a relieved-sounding breath. “Aren't you a sight for sore eyes? I just about gave up on you, I'll have you know. We've been busier than usual and you've been nowhere to be seen.”

“Y-Yeah,” Akira muttered unsteadily, somewhat intimidated by Lala's firm grasp. She had told him that he could show up to work whenever he wanted as long as help was needed, but there was no rule that said that she couldn't just fire him if he wasn't helpful enough. It looked like she already found a nice replacement...

Speaking of.

That 'replacement' appeared behind Lala, her head bowed timidly with her hair obscuring her face. She kept her hands politely clasped in front of her as she waited for Lala's attention.

It would've been hard for Lala to not notice her there. She was an especially tall girl. Unable to help it, Akira found himself staring at her figure. It was hard to properly imagine what she really looked like with the kimono hiding her curves. But... That was probably the point.

Lala released Akira and stepped aside and allowed the new girl to step forward. “That's right, Akira-chan, you haven't met our stunning new addition yet, have you?” Lala looked at her and gestured toward Akira. “Go ahead and introduce yourself.”

She nodded and gave a small bow.

“Hello, nice to meet you. I'm Foxy.” She lifted her head, her hair delicately falling away from her face, revealing the look of astonishment that crossed her features when she saw who was there in front of her. “Akira, what are you doing here?”

From the second he heard her voice, Akira had a bad feeling.

And what was up with that name? Foxy? It was too obvious!

“I work here,” Akira said, setting aside the more pressing questions for the moment. “Occasionally.”

Lala gave him a rather judgmental look. “Yes. Very 'occasionally',” she said.

At the sound of someone snapping their fingers, they turned toward Ohya who was excitedly leaning halfway across the counter. That drink must've been getting through to her. “You two know each other, don't you?” she asked. “I knew the new girl looked familiar. She was involved in the Madarame case, wasn't she? I remember seeing her with you at his place. Does this mean I can get a double scoop of Phantom Thieves info?”

“Can you stop calling him 'she'?” Akira said. Hearing them referring to his boyfriend that way was giving him a weird feeling.

“No, she's right,” Yusuke said. He wasn't doing anything to hide his masculine voice, but Akira noticed that his mannerisms seemed more feminine; the way he held his posture and elegantly placed a hand on his chest as he spoke. “As long as we're here, you must refer to me as a woman.”

The heck was that supposed to mean...?

Was there something he'd overlooked?

Akira frantically searched through his memory and came up empty-handed. He only remembered one conspicuous occasion where Yusuke had offered to dress as a girl after he joined them to balance out their party of mostly guys. He sounded serious about it, but Akira hadn't taken him seriously, assuming at the time that it was just 'Yusuke being Yusuke'.

His worries only mounted as Yusuke carried on, acting like it was nothing out of the ordinary. Lala praised him for his work and showed him who he should talk to next.

Akira watched him go, feeling like his soul was floating out of his body.

“Lala-san? Why did you hire him?” he asked. He didn't mean to overstep his bounds by asking, just hoping that she understood that he had mixed feelings about the situation.

“You have eyes, don't you?” Lala said, looking over at Yusuke. “He perfectly fit the bill. Not to mention, he's the artistic type.”

Her choice of words hadn't gone unnoticed by Akira. Apparently, when speaking about Yusuke as opposed to 'Foxy', she made a certain distinction.

“Yeah... That's kind of what makes him hard to figure out,” Akira admitted.

She seemed surprised. “Really? But isn't he a friend of yours?”

Ohya sat back in her seat and swirled the ice around in her glass. “More than that, from what I've gathered. He's your boyfriend, isn't he? I bet you're nervous about working with him.”

Akira couldn't remember telling her that he had a boyfriend, and he definitely wouldn't have given a name, but it was kind of pointless to wonder how she knew. It was Ohya's job to know everything. He didn't get the impression that she'd figured out he was a Phantom Thief yet, but there was a chance that she suspected something. She could've been perceptive... But it seemed more likely to Akira that she was spending her free time stalking him in the hope that following him would turn up more juicy info.

Instead of learning more about the Phantom Thieves, she probably found out an unnecessary amount about his personal life. That was unsettling.

“I think I'm just confused about why he would want to work here,” Akira said. Working with him wasn't the problem. He was used to working with Yusuke all the time. They started going out, but that hadn't changed anything. “Or, I mean... Why he's dressed like that. That's the bigger question.”

Was it just to fit in? Was it Lala's suggestion? Or had he made the choice on his own, knowing what kind of place Crossroads was?

As Lala watched Yusuke tending to the customers, she smiled, looking as proud as a mother hen. “Why don't you ask him yourself?” she said. “He's always going to seem 'hard to figure out' if you don't try to understand what he's thinking. Sure, he's a little different, but all artists are like that. I consider myself an artist, you know. Even the act of being yourself is a performance.”

Her words caught Akira off guard, upsetting his understanding of things. Just earlier, he'd been thinking that all of Shinjuku was an act, that Crossroads was the only place that didn't pretend. He didn't think he was wrong, but Lala wasn't wrong, either. Lala wasn't pretending, but exhibiting that amount of self-confidence had to require an extraordinary amount of effort.

That must've been where he was wrong. He thought for sure that it came naturally.

Confronting himself was going to be harder than he thought.

Lala gave him another one of those looks, like she was mysteriously able to tell what he was thinking. “I've listened to you hold dozens of conversations here, but I've never had my own chance to speak with you one-on-one. Take off the apron and have a seat for a second.”

“Oh... Sure.” It might've been his chance to finally learn something from her, but Akira didn't know if he was ready for that. Not that he had much of a choice. Lala was looking at him expectantly and he knew better than to go against her expectations.

He hadn't even gotten a second of work in and he was already taking off the apron. That felt weird. There was no reason to think that he was in trouble, but the sudden change in pace was making him nervous.

After hanging it where it belonged, he went to the other side of the counter and sat down next to Ohya where a seat had just been vacated.

“So tell me, is that boy as serious as he seems? Artists are special people, but the ones around here are often a little... misguided. Delusions of grandeur and all that. He might be young, but you're both at that age where you make some of the most important decisions of your life, so I want to hear your take.”

So that was what she wanted to talk about. He should've figured that she would want to know more about Yusuke. She was just as curious about him as he was. The fact that he was an artist only accounted for his inherent strangeness. There had to be conscious reasoning behind everything else he did – that was probably what she was thinking.

“Has he shown you any of his art?” Akira asked.

“No, but I've noticed his sketchbook.” She gave an amused shake of her head and laughed. “I had to stop him from drawing the customers. He got inspired a few times and tried to go get the sketchbook from the back.”

That sounded like Yusuke, alright.

“Ask him to let you see it sometime. I'm sure he'd love to share it with you,” Akira said. He couldn't keep himself from smiling. “I'd say that his confidence is totally proportional with his skill. Actually, I think he deserves to feel more confident. He's very focused on what he wants and he already has some very influential eyes on him. The only thing that can get in his way now is himself. He's an incredible artist and an incredible person. As long as he keeps going, I believe he can make it wherever he wants to go.”

After that, Lala didn't say anything. She just started at him, her hands resting on the counter, her eyebrows lifted way up high like she was surprised by something he said.

Ohya interrupted with the sound of her empty glass hitting the table. “Jeez,” she muttered, staring at him like Lala. “I wish I had a man who would talk about me like that.”

“Oh, me too,” Lala assured, “but that's not the part that got me. Based on the way our boy Akira is talking about the lovely artist, you'd think he understands him perfectly.” Resting against the counter, she leaned closer to Akira, looking into his eyes. “Are you sure you aren't intimidated by him instead?”

“Intimidated...?”

No matter how many times Akira tried to figure out Yusuke, that word had never gone through his mind. He didn't think Yusuke was impossible to understand. He just always assumed that he was like a puzzle that needed solving – eventually he'd figure him out. Once Lala put it that way, though, everything else fell into perspective.

It was all tied together.

It should've gone without saying. If he wanted to understand Yusuke, he needed to understand himself first.

The fact that Yusuke could be there, happily serving guests while dressed that way...

It intimidated him.

He hadn't realized that Yusuke had such confidence. It widened a divide between them in Akira's mind that he hadn't even noticed before then. As soon as he realized that Yusuke was the one underneath the makeup, Akira's first thought was _“I couldn't do that.”_

But why?

Lala told him that he could dress up if he wanted to. Morgana asked him if he'd try it.

Both times, he jokingly said that he would think about it. He hadn't rejected the idea outright. Yet, when he saw Yusuke, he quickly shoved the idea out of his mind like he was afraid to even acknowledge that he'd once considered it.

He believed that Yusuke could go anywhere or do anything.

As for himself...

“Yeah. You're right.” Lifting his glasses, Akira pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to clear his head. He took a breath and felt a bit better as he let it out. He even laughed a little. “I guess that means I chose well. You're supposed to date someone who challenges you, right?”

He read that once in a book, at least.

“That's it,” Lala said. “That's the right way of thinking. Let yourself be challenged but not intimidated. You could learn a thing from someone like him, but that boy also needs someone like you to keep him grounded. You see? It's give and take.”

On the counter behind Lala, Morgana popped his head out of Akira's bag, drawn out by that familiar phrase. He must've been listening. Akira was worried about what he planned to do with everything he'd heard. He imagined that he'd ask him again if he wanted to try dressing up, and Akira didn't know what he'd tell him. It hadn't seemed like a big deal to him before, but it was steadily becoming an issue.

Seeming satisfied with their conversation, Lala pushed back from the counter and straightened up, returning to her usual self. Morgana quickly ducked back into the bag to avoid being seen by her, though Akira suspected that she knew he was there. He was more concerned about the guests questioning the presence of an animal in the bar.

“Good work today,” Lala said. It sounded like she was dismissing him already, but Akira doubted that he'd be paid for their conversation. “Go have a chat with our new girl. I think you'll be as impressed by her as I am. I'll let you have a drink on the house. Whatever you want. Non-alcoholic, of course."

As soon as Lala turned her back and walked away to tend to another guest, Akira slumped and let his head hit the counter.

“You okay?” Ohya asked.

“Why'd I even come in tonight?”

Leaning over, Ohya put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, you were going to have to find out that your boyfriend works here eventually, right?” She removed her hand slowly, drawing Akira's eyes toward her. “Look, Lala's right. I love receiving your help all the time, but you shouldn't ignore your own problems. I think she went easy on you because she knows how easily you can solve this one. Just go chat him up. Foxy loves to talk.”

“Really?” Akira's eyes narrowed as he sat up slowly. “I don't think of him as being a people person, exactly. I kind of can't even believe he's been doing well around here. I thought everybody thought he was weird and unapproachable.”

Ohya quirked an eyebrow at him. “Says the guy who's dating him.”

“Touché.”

Ohya turned her chair around to look at the back of the bar. “Looks like Foxy's finished with that customer over there. Now's your chance. Go talk to her.”

Akira heaved a sigh as he slid off his stool. She was back to referring to Yusuke that way... If he went to speak with 'Foxy', Akira got the feeling he might be talking to somebody unfamiliar. He hoped that Foxy and Yusuke had things in common.

“Alright,” Akira said, turning back to Ohya. He noticed Morgana watching from his bag and nodded to him, too. “Here I go.”

As Yusuke left the customer he'd been speaking with, Akira raised a hand in a small wave to get his attention. It seemed silly to feel nervous, and yet he was. From the start, Akira knew that learning more about himself would be an uncomfortable process, one that he hoped he could accomplish on his own. Talking it over a bit with Lala was already enough to leave him feeling mentally drained, but he didn't want to back down and disappoint her. He needed to speak with Yusuke.

He was just afraid of revealing his insecurities.

Yusuke looked beautiful in that kimono. Its shimmering dark blue was a perfect complement with his dark hair and pale complexion.

He wondered what Yusuke would think of him if he dressed that way too.

 

When that customer left, Akira sat down at their place.

“Already taking a break?” Yusuke asked.

Trying to explain everything that he and Lala talked about felt like it would be too awkward, so Akira just shook his head and tried to find an excuse. “Not quite. I heard that you've been doing a good job of holding the fort all on your own, so I'm not really needed right now.”

“Oh, I see. Well then, enjoy your break.”

He was trying to say that it wasn't a break. Apparently Yusuke hadn't understood.

As Yusuke turned, before he could walk away, Akira reached out and instinctively grabbed his slender wrist. The second Yusuke turned around and looked at him, a look of mild confusion on his face, Akira felt himself getting warmer. Yusuke's beauty was stunning in the most literal sense. When Akira looked at him, he wasn't just intimidated – he was paralyzed.

“I want to order a drink, actually.”

“Oh...” Yusuke's eyes went to the hand around his wrist.

“And I was thinking that you could stay here for a minute and talk to me like the customers. I'd like to see what you're made of, being my new kouhai and all.”

Yusuke nodded wordlessly, a little timidly, his eyes still remaining on Akira's hand. Realizing that he might've unintentionally been making him uncomfortable, Akira let go and put his hands down in his lap. Since Yusuke didn't say anything, an awkward sort of silence crept in between them, making the voices of the other people around them sound deafeningly loud.

Just for a second, Akira looked away, and, by the time he looked back up, Yusuke had disappeared. He was behind the bar, preparing a drink even though Akira hadn't told him what he wanted.

He worked quickly and returned to Akira's place in no time at all and set the drink on the table.

Akira watched the fizz bubble and pop over the ice for a second before he looked up at Yusuke. “What's this?”

“If I know you, you'll like it.”

It was certainly a unique experience to be the one on the other end of things for a change. During the summer, Yusuke came to Leblanc, acting like he was just dropping by. The truth was, he always came hoping that he and Akira could spend time together, bringing things with him that would help them get to know each other, like his artbooks and DVDs. He always ended up spending the whole evening. Akira made coffee for him once, and then he started making it for him every time, learning how to make it just the way that Yusuke liked it.

That was how they ended up getting together.

If he could make the perfect coffee for Yusuke, he wondered what Yusuke's soda was like.

Akira cautiously and curiously took a sip.

“It's really sweet.” It made his cheeks tingle. It just tasted like regular TaP soda with some strawberry syrup. It wasn't perfect, but he knew that the coffee he made for Yusuke hadn't quite been perfect the first time, either. “If I ordered for myself, I would've asked for a TaP, but if I had mixed it, I don't know what I would've added.”

Since he couldn't order alcohol, he thought that TaP seemed like the most mature alternative. Adding syrup to it felt counterintuitive. He wasn't surprised that Yusuke got the drink right, but he wondered what made him add the syrup.

Not that it was bad. The strawberry flavor went with it really well.

Yusuke slid into the seat across from him and sat with his back straight, hands in his lap, legs to the side. Even the way he sat had an air of elegance. It was weird... Even though Yusuke was his boyfriend, Akira felt like it would be rude of him to stare. He was just curious. About everything. From the carefully-applied makeup on his face to his reasons for wearing it.

“You like sweet things.”

“Hm?” Akira blinked, feeling lost after having his thoughts interrupted.

“It's typical,” Yusuke said. “There are a lot of guys our age who think it will make them look unmanly if they enjoy sweet things like dessert. I noticed how excited you were to take me out for ice cream and crepes... And then there was that time when you kept eating the extra-spicy curry even though your face was turning red-”

Akira held up a hand to make him stop, feeling personally attacked. “A-Alright. Yeah. You know me better than I know myself, apparently.”

Weakly, he took another sip of his soda.

It was good...

“So,” Yusuke began, using a conversational tone, “why aren't you dressed up?”

Akira nearly spat out his drink. He just narrowly managed to hold himself together.

Looking up, staring at Yusuke's beautiful gorgeous perfect face, Akira opened his mouth, ready to deliver a comeback, and... realized that he still didn't have a good enough comeback yet. Yusuke was looking at him like he was judging him for only wearing the apron, like he expected more from him. Even under such strange circumstances, Akira felt bad for letting down Yusuke's expectations.

“I'm supposed to be the customer here, so can I ask you something first?” Akira asked. He waited for Yusuke to nod. “Why are you dressed like that?”

“Isn't it obvious?”

“Not really.”

“Because I work here.”

...Was it seriously that obvious? Akira had been kind of worried that it might be. But still. “You know that you don't have to dress like that when you work here, right? Lala dresses that way because she's a woman. I... don't have to explain that, do I?” The blank stare that Yusuke was giving him made Akira uncomfortable. He couldn't tell whether Yusuke really understood. “What I mean is, don't you worry about what people are going to think of you if you also dress like that?”

Lifting a hand delicately, Yusuke tucked his hair behind his ear, looking away with a complicated expression. “The people here are kind to me,” he said. “When I'm dressed like this, they think my personality is cute and quirky, not strange.”

Akira felt like he'd stupidly stepped on a landmine.

He didn't know what to say. He hoped that his careless question hadn't hurt his feelings. “I'm sorry. I... thought you'd feel uncomfortable if you were treated like a girl.”

“I'm not trying to act like a girl. When I'm wearing a kimono, I feel compelled to move differently out of respect for the garment, but everything else is the same. The customers just seem to understand that this kimono means I'm trying my best to be me and nothing else. And... I'm grateful for that. This is probably the only place where I could work and enjoy such freedom.”

Double K.O.

As far as Akira was concerned, two strikes meant game over. The round went to Yusuke. He'd already embarrassed himself twice, so what was another K.O.? It suddenly seemed stupid to feel so afraid of embarrassment. Yusuke had to know that he wouldn't say anything insensitive to him on purpose.

Akira clutched his hands around his glass, his fingers slipping on the cold perspiration. “I'm sorry if this sounds bad, so just bear with me, okay?” he said, still finding it so hard to look him in the eye. “You're still a guy... Right?”

Nervously, Akira glanced up to take a look at Yusuke's face and was relieved to find him quietly thinking about the question, giving it fair consideration. Akira didn't think it was a question that required so much consideration, but he waited patiently. It must've been a mistake to think it was a simple question.

“Wearing makeup and a kimono doesn't make me a girl, Akira. It's like kabuki.” He said that as if it explained everything. In a way, it kind of did. “You seem awfully curious about this. Do you... think I look strange like this? Does this appearance make you uncomfortable?”

“No.” He answered too quickly, but he really had to let Yusuke know that he was mistaken. “Really, that's- That's not it.” His breath froze in his throat, heart pounding in his throat as the things he'd been trying to ignore situated themselves on his tongue. He knew that he couldn't open his mouth and proceed without finally getting it out. “I was just surprised, that's all. I think most guys wouldn't have the guts to dress like that without feeling like their manhood is being threatened. I'm happy for you. I'm glad you found something that makes you happy.”

Yusuke leaned a little closer, curious. “So what about you? Are you afraid to try it?”

There was no turning back. He had to say it all out loud, even if it changed Yusuke's image of him, even if it changed Akira's image of himself.

“I don't think I'd feel any different if I put on makeup and a kimono, but there's a chance I would, and that chance is the kind of thing that scares me. There are a lot of things I'm afraid of asking myself because I'm afraid of finding out the answers. I'm afraid I might turn around and realize I was never who I thought I was.”

Yusuke nodded understandingly. He reached across the table and plucked the glass of soda from Akira's hands and took a sip of it for himself, placing his lips against the mark left by Akira's. He gave it another thoughtful sip, then set the glass down.

“Maybe it needs a little less strawberry... I'll try mixing it with other flavors next time.”

“Wait, were you even paying attention?”

“Mn. I was.” He made a vague gesture, waving his hand like he was dismissing what he said. “That sounded like a whole lot of nonsense coming from you, leader.” His gaze shifted to Akira and their eyes locked. “Haven't you noticed? In the Metaverse, you transform when you're wearing your Phantom suit. That 'you' is also you, and you accepted it without even thinking about it, so why are you so worried about discovering other things about yourself?”

Once again, Akira found himself at a loss. He didn't know what to say, almost feeling guilty for having thought it was such a deep question to begin with after Yusuke exposed its flaws so bluntly. It was possible that he'd been worrying over a problem he'd already solved without realizing it, fretting over something that already came naturally to him.

While he was distracted with his thoughts, Akira didn't mind letting Yusuke drink his soda. He liked watching the way his throat moved, making even the modestly tucked collar of his kimono look tempting.

“Yusuke, what do you think makes someone an adult? Does it happen when you become jaded and overworked?”

“I don't know. I don't think they know, either. That's what makes them jaded. That's what made Madarame the way he was, becoming resentful of all the time that had passed him by without his notice...” Although he was overtaken by a melancholy expression, Yusuke didn't allow it to linger for long, recovering quickly with a fond smile that he directed at Akira. “All I can say for certain is that I won't stop painting, and you shouldn't stop enjoying sweet things.”

Taking one more sip, Yusuke set down the glass and passed it to Akira. He placed his hands around Akira's, his long fingers sliding gently over the back of his hands, giving him a pleasant shiver.

To be an adult, he didn't have to change, and he didn't have to let it change him.

“Thank you, Foxy. That helps.”

He was going to try embracing his sweet tooth.

Yusuke leaned forward, his back arching, the front of his kimono gaping, giving Akira a little peek of his perfectly flat chest beneath. “So?” he said, eyes gleaming with childish excitement. “Are you going to try it? I'm really good at applying makeup. I did my own. I can help you.”

With an amused smirk, Akira sat back, crossing his legs, casually resting his arms over the back of his chair. “Sure. Why not?” He wouldn't mind letting Yusuke use him as a human canvas. When he looked at it that way, it wasn't a bad idea at all.

Yusuke wasn't like anyone else. His eccentricities pushed other people away, but they drew Akira in. The reason Yusuke probably seemed so hard to understand at times was because he understood the things that were difficult for other people to grasp. He was on his own planet, in another galaxy, existing on a plane that only geniuses and the strangest of the strange were able to perceive. Akira wanted to join him there and look down at all the other people on Earth and laugh.

They could become spacemen together.

Holding his chin, Yusuke looked him over intensely as if he were already planning what to do with him. “I wonder if Lala has anything you can wear...”

“By the way...” Akira had a lot of questions, but there was one big question that had gone ignored. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Working.”

Akira wanted to cry, Yusuke could be so oblivious. It was painfully endearing. “Yeah, but... If you didn't know that I worked here, how did you find out about this place?”

Sitting back, Yusuke glanced around at the people around them. The number of people had thinned out. Lala was managing on her own. “I saw a flier in the station. It said they were looking for a creative person who enjoys interacting with different people. I enjoy people-watching, but simply watching isn't enough anymore if I hope to broaden my canvas. It sounded like the perfect opportunity for me. And...” He turned away sadly and took a glance at Akira as he nervously played with his hair. “I felt bad. You've been so nice, always helping me out, getting me whatever I need when I don't have the money. I thought you might be impressed if I were able to help myself.”

That answer... It was enough to make all of Akira's own worries feel trivial.

Reaching out, he placed his palm against Yusuke's cheek. He knew it might not look appropriate, but he couldn't help himself. Yusuke's intentions were so straightforward and pure, it made Akira feel downright pathetic in comparison. He didn't deserve him.

“You're doing great,” he said. The tentative smile Yusuke gave him in return felt like a gift. “Really. You fit right in. Even Lala said you're perfect. It makes me happy to know you're comfortable here.”

Perhaps the reason he came to Crossroads so infrequently was because, subconsciously, he'd never made amends with the part of himself that liked being there in that atmosphere. As a result, he was never able to feel that comfortable. He liked Crossroads for its honesty, but he wasn't able to be honest with himself. He knew that. So it was hard. He wanted to belong there.

It was getting late. Before he noticed, they'd been talking for a long time. If he still had his apron on, Akira knew that Lala would've yelled at him for sitting in one place for so long, but he also didn't want her to yell at Yusuke. Even if Lala seemed to be doing alright without them, Yusuke was supposed to be working.

When Akira looked over at the bar, Lala seemed to be all smiles, though. She was chatting with one of the lonely businessmen who would visit from time to time. Akira's eyes met hers from across the way and her smile didn't falter in the slightest. That probably meant it was fine. She was the one who told him to sit down and have a talk with Yusuke, after all.

“Do you stay here later than this?” Akira asked.

Yusuke looked at him blankly. Reaching into the arm of his kimono, he pulled out his phone. As soon as he saw the time, his eyes grew wide in astonishment. “It's so late!”

“I figured. Lala always makes me leave by this time. She wants me to act like a responsible student.” He laughed softly to himself. “Or she just doesn't want to feel responsible if I get in trouble for getting home late. My probation is a precarious thing, and it's dangerously easy to forget about it.”

“I mustn't forget my curfew, either...” Tucking his phone back into his long sleeve, Yusuke stood and waited for Akira to join him. “Would you be willing to help me take this off?”

There was no hesitation in Yusuke's voice and no sound of suggestion. Akira wondered if his words held some other meaning, but Yusuke was looking at him with clear eyes, like he was simply asking him for assistance and nothing else. The thought of helping him take off the kimono made Akira swallow thickly, his blood heating up, but he realized that he was probably getting flustered over nothing. Yusuke wasn't the type to make risque suggestions – not knowingly.

Standing, he took one more big drink from the glass, reducing it to ice, and nodded for Yusuke to lead the way.

The backroom was but a few steps away, but they had to say good night to the guests who stopped them on their way there. After Yusuke entered, Akira closed the door behind them and leaned against it, feeling his heart still pounding anxiously. Over what? He wasn't sure.

He was just going to help him take it off. It wasn't like he hadn't seen Yusuke with his clothes off before...

“I thought this getup made you uncomfortable,” Yusuke said, the sound of his sudden voice interrupting the silence, surprising Akira, making his shoulders jump. He turned around and looked at him and his eyes were still crystal clear. “I like working here. I think that the skills I learn here ought to make me more useful in our operations. I'm more observant now.”

Crossroads was small, so the backroom was small also. There were some crates with alcohol, things like spare lights and decorations. There was only one locker and it didn't have a lock on it. Akira had opened it once and found a shimmery blue kimono messily hung inside. At the time, he thought it belonged to Lala, but it seemed unusual that she would leave it there in that condition.

When Yusuke opened the locker, Akira finally realized that the kimono he was wearing was the same one he'd seen before.

Standing in front of the open locker door, Yusuke began untying the front of the kimono.

Akira stepped away from the door, moving toward Yusuke.

“Don't you need my help?” he asked.

“I'm capable of taking off a kimono by myself,” Yusuke said, glancing up as his hands continued to work at the layers of ties securing the fabric. “I can also put it on by myself. Do you know how to wear a kimono?”

“Of course not...”

Yusuke's hands stopped. “Ah, that's right. You don't even own a yukata.”

“I do, actually,” Akira said quickly. “It's at home. Not at Leblanc. You know-... At home... Where I came from.” He couldn't help but wince at his own awkwardness. He didn't know why, but thinking about home lately made him feel uneasy. Referring to Leblanc as 'home' was about as embarrassing as accidentally calling a teacher 'mom', and yet...

He wished he had a yukata at Leblanc, so he could celebrate holidays and special occasions in the traditional way with everyone. Like family.

Yusuke was right.

Even if he didn't notice, he was changing. He'd already changed. The person he was back in his hometown was already gone, and Akira didn't miss him.

“Still, if you know how to wear a yukata, you can wear a kimono. They aren't so different. I'd like to see the way you look in a yukata – or a kimono. I bet you'd look handsome in either.”

That sounded like an odd choice of words to Akira's ears. “Handsome? In a kimono?”

“You have a nice body and a pretty face,” Yusuke said, pausing to look at him admiringly. Slowly, he lowered his hands to his sides, leaving the front loose, and became more serious. The air between them constricted. “Apologies. I'm not very good at beating around the bush. Earlier, you sounded unsure about the idea of dressing this way for yourself, but I couldn't help but notice the way you were looking at me. You seem to approve of the way I look. I know I can be dense, so... Can you explain?”

The night wasn't over yet. Akira was getting weary of all the questions, but at least he got the feeling they were dwindling. After questioning himself and questioning himself, he felt more willing to answer, if only to put an end to it.

“Sorry. Mixed signals,” he said, tiredly taking a seat on one of the two used, wobbly chairs. Slouching, he rested his arms over his knees and shook his head. “I don't really understand it, either. That look... It really suits you. You looked so beautiful and confident out there, I guess I felt insecure in comparison. It was stupid.”

Yusuke was quiet, the twist between his brows conveying a kindhearted kind of pity. It was almost enough to make Akira want to turn away. When he was within reach, he placed his hands on Akira's shoulders gently and leaned down a little to look into his eyes, letting him see a small, tender smile. “That isn't stupid. You can be beautiful too, Akira.”

Yusuke moved one of his hands, placing his warm palm against Akira's cheek, and Akira leaned into it, putting a hand over Yusuke's.

“Yeah. You'll make me beautiful.”

Akira was sure of that. Yusuke was his turning point. If he placed himself in Yusuke's hands, he was sure Yusuke would paint him in more than just makeup.

He wanted to be as beautiful as Yusuke. As kind.

Whenever they were together, whenever Yusuke's gentle fingers touched him, their colors bled together, becoming more similar while changing each other at the same time. They were absorbing the best parts of each other. That was what Akira hoped.

“If I'm not here next time, you can wear this one,” Yusuke said, pinching the front of the kimono, widening the gap in the front. And he wondered why Akira had been giving him a lecherous eye. Akira couldn't wrap his head around how Yusuke could be so sexy without even trying. “Lala told me I could wear it. She said it was left behind by another girl who eloped with her lover. Who would abandon such a lovely garment? No respect.”

“Sounds like it's yours now.”

He opened his arms and Yusuke looked confused for a moment before realizing what Akira wanted. Tucking the fabric under his knees, he sat on his lap and hooked an arm around his shoulders. Akira's arms went around his waist and he leaned in, letting himself indulge in the intimacy of that secret moment, pressing his cheek against Yusuke's chest. Through the thick fabric, he could feel his warmth and the calm thumping of his heart.

It was fine.

Right then, Akira couldn't say whether he felt more like an adult or less like a child. The one sitting in his lap, curiously twirling his curls around his fingers, seemed to be a bit of everything.

Yusuke just... _was_. It didn't matter what he was, nor did he think too hard about what he was.

“So what do you think of Foxy?” Yusuke asked. “It's unfair that you get to have so many Personas. It's been a fun experience, wearing a different mask.”

“To be honest, I thought you were someone else when I walked in tonight. I saw this stranger and thought she was pretty, but not as pretty as you... I was a fool.”

“You'd call me 'pretty' either way?”

Akira nodded. “Yeah. Either way.”

Humming thoughtfully to himself, Yusuke leaned back, trying to get a look at himself in the mirror on the inside of the locker door. Feeling him squirming around in his lap made Akira feel a little awkward. Seeing as how the boy subsisted on a diet of beansprouts, he wasn't very heavy, but he wasn't being mindful of the position he was in. Akira wished he could find a way to tell him to give his poor dick some consideration without embarrassing himself.

When Yusuke finally stopped squirming and sat up straight, he let out a sigh. “I forgot to bring something to take off my makeup...”

“You can't just rub it off?”

Yusuke stared at him like he was crazy. “Haven't you ever worn makeup before?”

“That isn't a real question, right?”

“You can't just rub it off.” That didn't answer Akira's question, which made him sweat and wonder if that had indeed been a serious question. “I suppose it's alright. I'll leave it the way it is. At least it still looks good.”

Akira was about to ask how he planned to go outside looking like that, but then he remembered where they were. There were a lot of unique individuals in Shinjuku, some with a fashion sense that deserved to burn. And... If Yusuke was confident enough to go out with a full face of makeup, then Akira wanted to applaud him for that. He just hoped that no one at Yusuke's dorm would give him crap for it.

If they wasted any more time, they were going to end up having to wait longer for the next train, so Akira decided to help him along, doing as he originally promised. While Yusuke was busy thinking to himself, Akira slipped the ends out of the last cord around Yusuke's waist and gave them a tug to untie the bow. It had been so long since he'd worn a yukata, he forgot how easy it was to take off – and he also should've remembered how little needed to be worn underneath.

For some reason, there was something almost alien about the contrast between Yusuke's broad, flat chest and his face of perfectly-applied makeup. That was the only way Akira knew how to describe it in his head, but it wasn't a bad thing. He was like some kind of mythical being descended to Earth.

That was who he was dating. That was his boyfriend.

That perfect god-creature.

“Now what does that look mean?” Yusuke asked. He untwined his fingers from Akira's hair and poked him in the middle of his forehead to smooth out the crease between his brow.

Akira didn't know how he'd been looking at him that time, but he knew how he felt. As he was staring at Yusuke, he felt like he was suddenly seeing him in a new way and understood what it was that made Yusuke feel so special to him and yet seem so eccentric to others. He wasn't incomprehensible. He wasn't a god or an alien or an android or anything like that. Yusuke was just a regular human, but he placed the importance of beauty above everything else – above common sense and societal expectation.

The problem was, deep down, Akira realized that he cared a lot about what people thought.

But he didn't want to.

“I want to be like you.”

Yusuke tilted his head, his hair lightly falling across his face. “I think you'd rather be more like yourself.”

“That's what I mean,” Akira said. He put his forehead against Yusuke's bare shoulder. For someone so bony, he was unusually comfortable. “You aren't like anyone else. That's how I want to be. I've been so preoccupied with what makes me 'me', but that doesn't matter, does it? People are constantly changing. I'm not even the same as the 'me' from five seconds ago. I shouldn't be afraid of who I am because I can be whoever I want.”

That answer sounded so simple, yet it had eluded him that whole time.

After a deep sigh to finally release some of his pent-up stress, Akira breathed in, filling his senses with Yusuke's familiar scent. “I need a nap,” he muttered.

“I wish I could take you back to the dorm with me,” Yusuke said, petting the back of Akira's head. “I don't have a lot, but I could make you some tea and let you rest your head in my lap all night.”

Yusuke had an amusingly traditional idea of what couples were supposed to be like.

“That sounds nice. I'll take a rain check.”

Knowing that he'd fall asleep if he weren't careful, Akira picked up his head and looked at Yusuke. One shoulder was bare, the kimono held up by the other. Akira's eyes wandered lower to where it was still folded over Yusuke's lap, protecting his modesty. He was probably wearing underwear under there... He had to be...

“I'm wearing underwear.”

“Don't read my mind. It's rude.”

Since Yusuke was clearly riding his wavelength, Akira figured that it wouldn't be inappropriate if he touched him. Just a little. Even if someone walked in, it wouldn't look too incriminating if he was just holding Yusuke's waist. And touching his chest. And kissing his neck.

Yusuke shivered, but he didn't tell him to stop. The way he wrapped his arms around Akira's shoulders encouraged him to be more daring, giving him the permission to use his tongue in some of Yusuke's sensitive places. The backroom was chilly, so Yusuke shivered more as Akira slipped his hands underneath the kimono and touched his back with his cold fingertips, as he ran his hot tongue over his collarbone.

He never realized how much he liked having him in his lap; having him so close, practically trapped where he could do whatever he wanted...

By the time Yusuke raised his head, he looked totally dazed.

“Hey.” Akira touched his chin and guided him to look at him. “Is it alright if I kiss you? I've never kissed someone who was wearing lipstick before. You seemed happy with how it looked, so I don't want to mess it up.”

Yusuke's eyes cleared and he nodded, looking anxious for his kiss.

Akira looked into his eyes as he leaned in, admiring the length of Yusuke's lashes and the way the shadow highlighted his eyes. It made his gaze irresistible. When he'd let himself become overwhelmed by his insecurities, the makeup had been enough to intimidate him, making him too afraid to even look at him. Of course, once he had Yusuke in his lap and they were a breath apart, he realized how silly that had been.

He placed his lips lightly against Yusuke's, mindful of the lipstick, keeping it at just the softest touch.

When he pulled away, he saw Yusuke's sly smirk and knew that he must've gotten it on him.

“Alright, up you go,” he said, scooping his arms under Yusuke to pluck him from his lap and put him back on his feet. As soon as he was up, the front of the kimono slid apart, revealing the tight blue shorts he was wearing underneath. “Better than if you were wearing nothing.” Akira nodded approvingly.

“And people call _me_ a pervert...” Holding the front together, Yusuke hurriedly retreated to the locker and tried to hide himself behind the door.

“I'm just saying. They're cute.” Akira squinted. “Yusuke... Yusuke, we've had sex. I've seen you naked. _Please._ ”

Yusuke peeked around the door, lips tight, face red.

So he was alright with presenting himself as a woman in a bar full of people – something that would normally unnerve even the most confident of men – but he was somehow still embarrassed of being seen undressed by the person he was dating.

There was an expression for that, wasn't there?

Gap moe.

“It's okay. I'll turn around,” Akira said. Getting up from the chair, he did just that, turning to face the wall. As he listened to the soft rustling of Yusuke getting dressed in his other clothes, Akira wondered about how Morgana was doing out there by himself. Maybe he took a nap while waiting. He hoped that Lala hadn't noticed him.

Moments later, he felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned around to find Yusuke there – albeit, a Yusuke who was a bit prettier than usual.

Remembering that he got lipstick on himself, Akira touched his lower lip briefly but then drew his hand away, deciding that he would rather leave it there than wipe it away.

“I don't think a kimono would suit me,” he said, smiling warmly at Yusuke. “How about... Something red? But I like black, too. And heels. It needs to have heels. Do you think you could help me find something like that?”

Judging by the look he was given, Yusuke was going to be more than happy to help him look for such an outfit. They could probably find something like that right in Shinjuku. It was bound to be a date to remember.

Handing Yusuke his bag, Akira gestured to the door for him to go first.

“Time to save Morgana from bag hell,” Akira laughed. “Come on. We can walk to the station together if you'd like.”

Instead of walking ahead, Yusuke decided to take him up on that offer early and took his hand.


End file.
